The morning did not rise gently—it slammed into the world with a heat that shimmered off the palace roofs and a tension that hummed like a stretched bowstring. Lyra felt it before she opened her eyes, before she even woke fully. Something had shifted. A turning point. A storm gathering in the bones of the day.
She sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. The room was still dim, only a sliver of sunlight cutting across the floor. Yet her pulse raced, as if she'd run miles in a dream she couldn't remember.
A soft knock sounded.
"Lyra?" Thorne's voice slipped through the door, low and rough. "Are you awake?"
She stood quickly, smoothing her hair and ignoring the sudden flutter in her chest. "Come in."
The door opened, revealing Thorne dressed in dark clothes, his jaw tight and his eyes shadowed. He looked like a man preparing for war—or one who had already stepped into it.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He exhaled slowly, then shut the door behind him. "Shadow Brand Leader made a move at dawn. Several outposts along the boundary were hit. Quietly, but effectively."
Lyra's spine straightened. "Casualties?"
"None." His answer was immediate, firm. "He wasn't attacking. He was testing our response time."
"And?"
"We took too long," Thorne said with a grim set to his mouth. "He's probing for weaknesses."
Lyra paced to the window, staring out at the glowing horizon. "He's getting bolder. It means he's close to whatever he's planning."
"It means," Thorne corrected quietly, "he's close to you."
She turned sharply. "To me?"
Thorne's expression tightened. "The last message he sent—encoded, left at the northern border—mentioned your name."
Lyra felt her stomach drop. "What did it say?"
"Only two words." Thorne hesitated, rage flickering in his eyes. "Bring her."
Silence pressed into the room.
Lyra swallowed. "He wants me alive. That's… something."
"Lyra." Thorne stepped closer. "You're not going anywhere near him."
"You can't decide that."
"I can," he said, voice low, "and I will."
She held his gaze, refusing to look away. "Thorne, he's after me because of the mark. Because of the bond. Because he thinks I'm the key to whatever twisted plan he has. If I just hide—"
"You're not hiding." He cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. "You're staying alive."
The conviction in his voice hit her chest with surprising force. But Lyra wasn't the type to be protected and sidelined—not anymore.
"I'm not afraid of him."
"You should be." His voice cracked—not with anger, but something far more painful. "He's not predictable. He's not human in half the ways that matter. And he wants you for reasons we still don't fully understand."
Lyra stepped closer. "Then all the more reason to confront him."
Thorne stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Absolutely not."
"You don't own me."
"I'm not trying to—"
"You're acting like it." Lyra's voice softened. "Thorne, listen. You swore you'd treat me as your equal."
He froze at that.
"And equals," she continued, "make decisions together."
Thorne's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in the corner. "I'm trying to keep you safe."
"You're trying to keep me away." She shook her head. "But I can't run from this. Not anymore."
Thorne walked past her, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He looked torn, the weight of two impossible choices crushing him. "Lyra… I can't lose you."
Her breath stilled.
He didn't look at her when he said it. Maybe he couldn't. But the words hung in the air between them like a confession, raw and unfiltered.
Lyra stepped toward him again. "You won't."
Thorne finally met her eyes, something fragile flickering beneath the hardness of his expression. "You can't promise that."
"And you can't promise I'll survive by hiding." She reached out, her fingers brushing his forearm. "We fight him together. Or he keeps hunting us until he wins."
Thorne stared at her hand, then covered it with his own—an instinctive, protective gesture he didn't seem aware of.
"Why does it always have to be you?" he whispered. "Why does everything come back to you and him?"
"Because he marked me," she said softly. "And because you broke his claim."
Thorne stiffened.
Lyra's voice lowered. "To the Shadow Brand Leader… I'm the one thing he thinks he lost control over. He wants his power back. And you—"
She took a breath.
"You're the one who stole it."
Thorne flinched—not in fear, but in the painful recognition of truth.
"He'll never stop," Lyra said. "Not until he gets what he wants."
"And what if what he wants is you?" Thorne's voice was barely above a growl.
Lyra didn't answer immediately.
Because deep down… she knew that was exactly the problem.
---
The council meeting was tense. The room was filled with commanders and strategists, voices rising in heated debate.
"We must strike first—"
"No, we fortify the inner rings—"
"The Leader doesn't want war, he wants leverage—"
Lyra sat beside Thorne, absorbing every word.
He didn't speak at first. He watched. Calculated. Waited.
But when one commander slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "We should just hand over the girl—"
The entire room froze.
Thorne didn't.
He stood so fast his chair crashed to the floor.
"If you finish that sentence," he said quietly, "you lose that hand."
Silence.
The commander swallowed hard and dropped his gaze.
Lyra's heart thudded painfully, but she kept her head high. "Let him speak."
Thorne shot her a warning look, but she shook her head.
"Say what you meant," Lyra told the commander.
The man cleared his throat. "I-I mean… not hand you over. But perhaps negotiate terms. Use you as—"
"A bargaining chip?" Thorne snarled.
Lyra raised one hand, stopping him. "Finish."
"As leverage," the commander said weakly. "Since you're the one he wants, perhaps we can—"
"You would walk me into his hands," Lyra said calmly, "and hope he doesn't kill you all anyway."
The commander faltered. "Well—"
Thorne slammed his palm onto the table. "She is not—not—an asset to trade."
Lyra faced the entire room. "But I am part of the equation. Which means I get a say."
One of the older strategists nodded slowly. "Then what do you propose?"
Lyra took a breath. The moment felt heavy, monumental.
"We set a trap," she said. "A false surrender."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Lyra continued, "We let the Shadow Brand Leader think he's winning. Let him think we're exposing a weakness. Offer him a meeting—private, controlled, on our terms."
"And who goes to represent us?" another commander demanded.
Lyra's answer was immediate.
"Me."
The uproar that followed shook the walls.
"No!"
"Absolutely not!"
"That's suicide!"
"She's too important—"
Thorne didn't shout. He didn't speak. He just stared at her.
When the room finally quieted, he said, "Everyone leave."
No one dared disobey.
Within moments, the council chamber was empty. Only Lyra and Thorne remained.
He approached her slowly, as if every step hurt.
"Do you have any idea," he said softly, "how insane that plan is?"
"Yes."
"And yet you said it anyway."
"Yes."
Thorne exhaled a shaky breath. "Why?"
"Because we're out of time."
He stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a defeated sort of certainty, he said:
"You're going to do this with or without my approval."
Lyra didn't deny it.
Thorne closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were full of something fierce.
"Then I'm going with you."
Lyra's breath caught. "Thorne—"
"You don't walk into his hands alone. Not while I'm breathing." His voice dropped lower. "Not ever."
The intensity of it settled deep in her chest.
"Thorne…" she whispered.
He stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers with an unshakable vow.
"I made you a promise," he said. "An oath I intend to keep."
She swallowed. "Which one?"
"That whatever comes," Thorne whispered, "I stand with you."
Lyra felt the world tilt. A fracture in their balance, a shift in something unspoken.
Slowly, she reached up and touched the edge of his jaw.
"And I stand with you," she said softly.
Thorne's breath hitched.
Around them, the air felt charged—alive. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't tender. It was something deeper.
An allegiance forged in fear and fire.
An oath that changed everything.
Whatever the Shadow Brand Leader planned…
whatever he wanted…
whatever darkness he meant to unleash…
They would face it together.
Side by side.
Or not at all.